What He Needs
by Karre
Summary: Because sometimes the line between dreams and consciousness is blurred. Because sometimes a fantasy can sustain a soul...(FaustEliza)


Title: What He Needs  
  
Pairing: Faust/Eliza  
  
Warnings: HETERO LIME, nothing explicit but still, if that's not you're thing get out now. ANGST, because I am so very sadistic. DISTURBING and UPSETTING THEMES,.::waves her hands vaguely:: I don't need a reason.  
  
Disclaimer: Do you remember that episode when Ren performed a striptease for everyone in the hot tub? No? That's because I don't own Shaman King!  
  
Notes: This started when my dear friend Jinu and I realized that we had never once seen Faust sleep. I began to ponder possible causes for this (not THAT you hentias!) and came up with this.  
  
Enjoy! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The quiet ticking of a clock and the soft crackle of turning pages blanketed the kitchen as the snow piled high outside. Faust squinted at an annotation at the bottom of a page and quickly flipped to the index, searching for a reference.  
  
He felt small, thin hands slip around his waist. He shifted slightly and a sharp chin nestled in his shoulder. "Eliza, what are you doing up?" She nuzzled deeper into his back and her hands tightened. "Beloved, what's wrong?" he asked, low grade panic creeping into his voice.  
  
She turned her head and kissed his neck. "Sweet heart-" He turned to face his wife, careful not to disturb a looming pile of books.  
  
"I'm lonely. Come to bed. It's late." She kissed him full on the mouth to add weight to her argument. He gathered her into his lap, slowly warming to the kiss.  
  
"I'm sorry." Unable to resist, he kissed her again.  
  
"You're always sorry," she whispered, kissing his nose and laughing. She gracefully rose to her feet and tugged him up into her embrace by the wrist. He luxuriated in the feel of her warm, soft body against his.  
  
She smiled indulgently, then leaned over and closed the book. "Eliza!" he cried, sounding aggrieved. She looked at him. "I don't know what page I was on."  
  
"Two-Fourteen," she said, not missing a beat. She towed him out into the corridor. He smiled and pushed her gently to a wall, kissing her worshipfully. He took his time, enjoying her silken, petal soft lips. He kissed the side of her mouth and began to work his way up to her forehead. She pulled away and tugged him down the hall. "Quickly! We don't have long!"  
  
He glanced about for a clock. "What time is it?" She pulled him unrelentingly forward. He grabbed her other wrist and held her close.  
  
She fought against his arms and tried to yank herself free. "No!" she shrieked, continuing to struggle. He instantly let her go, fearing he had hurt her.  
  
"Eliza?" he asked, searching her face, his incomprehension growing.  
  
"No, there's no time," she whimpered, near hysterics. She tried desperately to pull him by his sleeves.  
  
He dared to draw her into his arms again as he saw tears threaten. "Eliza, please calm down," he said softly, gently stroking her arms. "We don't have to-"  
  
"No," she said quietly, kissing him. "Please?" Another kiss. He leaned into her and ran his fingers lightly over the swell of her breasts and hips. He slipped his hands up her shirt, tracing her ribs. He pushed his knee between her thighs and leaned down to kiss her again. He licked and nipped at her lips as his hands continued to map paradise. "Eliza..." He slowed his motions and glanced down the hallway, to their room.  
  
"Please," she pleaded, drawing his attention. "Just once more. Just to say goodbye." Tears appeared once again in her eyes.  
  
Faust raised an alarmed eyebrow. "Where are you going?"  
  
The little droplets ran down her cheeks. "You won't-you won't even kiss me goodbye?" she wept.  
  
He immediately repented. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Don't cry, sweet heart. Please, don't cry. I don't understand." He looked at her helplessly, pleading with her.  
  
She calmed, though the tears still streamed down her face. "Just love me."  
  
He kissed her cheeks and whispered, "I do. I will..."  
***  
  
Eliza stood over the sleeping form of her widowed husband. He shifted under the blankets, moaning softly, sweat beading on his forehead. She watched him, waiting, knowing what would come. She did not feel a wave of sorrow, grief, or jealousy. She might have been moved to tears at another time, but she no longer possessed a strong enough emotion. There was a small sob from the bed and a whispered name.  
  
He reached out instinctively to his left side, his hand questing for a body that was not there. Another scene to break her heart, if it weren't ten years dead. One final sigh and he subsided, sliding back into restless dreams.  
  
She might have pulled the twisted sheets back up his body, but she knew she wouldn't. She stood back and studied his emaciated form. Deep, dark, near permanent circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. Protruding hip bones and hollow cheeks betrayed his disinterest in eating.  
  
He needed the human touch. Someone to talk to, someone unafraid of him and his ideas. He needed someone to take care of himself for. He needed to be happy.  
  
She could not do these things. Though she tried, for him. She loved him, in the detached way a spirit loves the shaman who has mastered it. Her love for him was strong, but not what it was. Not what he needed.  
  
His eyes flickered open and fell upon her. He smiled. He rose and touched her face as if he couldn't feel the bone beneath the illusion. She almost felt her soul twist. He was always so grateful for what she couldn't do for him.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Didn't know I had it in me! Review, please/onegai/s'il vous plait/por favor! (didn't know I had that in me either.) ~Karre 


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